Chapter Twenty
Twenty
Never in his twenty-nine years had Kyle been as scared—experienced such straight-up, unadulterated fear—as he was feeling in that moment. No fight he’d been in, no financial risk he’d taken, not even the few times his dad had been called to four-alarm fires—none of that even came close to this. And all he could do was sit in this waiting room chair, forearms on bouncing knees, and stare at the swinging doors that led to the surgery unit, waiting for the doctor to reappear. The doctor who was trying to save Casey’s life.
Dad and Wyatt were there, lost in their own anxious thoughts. Still in uniform since he came straight from the firehouse, his dad stood across the room, back against the wall, hands tucked into armpits. It looked like he might be praying—something Kyle had never known him to do—since his eyes were shut and his lips were moving. The way Wyatt hunched in his chair, head in his hands… Kyle could only remember seeing him like that one other time. Nine years ago when Casey had to tell him their mom was gone. Kyle knew he should reach out to him in some way, but he couldn’t. He was too afraid to do anything, to even speak or move, like offering or receiving any kind of comfort might be considered overstepping by whatever higher power was deciding Casey’s fate.
Severe hemorrhaging. Dr. Frazier had thrown a lot at Kyle when she rushed out to explain what was happening, but that phrase stuck. She’s losing too much blood , she’d said, her expression solemn and tense. We didn’t realize how deeply the placenta had grown into her uterus, right through the muscle wall. An emergency hysterectomy is the only way to avoid more blood loss. Kyle had cut her off then, told her to get on with it, quit wasting time. But the doc had wanted to be clear: She’s under anesthesia so I can’t speak to her about it. We all talked about this possibility, but I want to make sure you remember this means Casey will not be able to get pregnant again. It took Kyle a beat to respond, not because he didn’t understand, only because he didn’t know why that irrelevant point was being made. He curled his hands into fists to keep from pushing the doctor back through the doors. “Go do it.” Dr. Frazier had nodded once before jogging back through those doors.
A nurse stopped by a few minutes later to let Kyle know he had a son, that he weighed six and a half pounds, measured eighteen inches long. They’d checked his breathing and heart rate, all was good, would Kyle like to meet him? When he responded with a quick “Not yet” his dad stepped forward, started to speak, but Kyle had shut him down with another firm “Not yet.” He didn’t want to meet the baby without Casey, wouldn’t even entertain that idea.
When they found out she was pregnant she could not have been more excited, endless smiles and walking on air. His reaction had been different. He knew how much she wanted a baby, so he was happy for her. Selfishly he hoped this would preclude any more discussion about an expensive grad school that would take her away from home. But a low-grade anxiety settled in as well. He didn’t feel ready to be a father, didn’t know how to avoid making terrible mistakes. He was afraid of being the same kind of dad his father was, judgmental and emotionally distant. When he expressed these fears to Casey she just smiled and shook her head— If you were emotionally distant, Kyle, we wouldn’t be married. And nobody’s ever ready to be a parent, we’ll figure it out together.
That was the other thing. He and Casey had been a two-person team for eleven years. Dad, Wyatt, Coach, Mateo, Angie, and Todd—they were family, important to him and Casey and the life they’d built. But they relied on one another to the utmost degree, shared everything with each other. She was always somewhere in his thoughts, and whenever anything happened, be it a world event or some trivial interaction at work, she was the first person he talked to about it. He wanted her opinion on everything, even though he could guess what it was before he asked. And the beauty of it all was he knew she’d say all those things about him too.
It wasn’t always smooth sailing. Casey drove him nuts at times, like how she could never keep track of her stuff—they’d had to cancel credit cards twice because she lost her wallet. She never said no to anyone, was forever staying late at work or putting in extra time to meet with students or parents, help with extracurriculars that weren’t her responsibility. She did too much for his dad, shopping and making extra food for him, cleaning out his fridge, indulging in long dinners when Dad was feeling chatty or lonely. Her concept of a financial budget was loose at best— I know it costs more but organic is healthier. And that stubborn streak… When she set her mind on something she went after it with single-minded focus, and there was no reasoning with her. But he wouldn’t change any of that. It was all just the flip side of the things he loved about her: her generosity and empathy for others, fierce sense of loyalty and optimism, her passion.
Kyle knew in his bones she felt the same. He was no picnic. It bothered her how much he worried about everything—the business, their finances, having a baby—especially when he shot down her reassurances and insisted on brooding. As much as she loved his father, she wished Kyle would stand up for himself when Dad hurled little barbs— Stopped in the garage today, your crew isn’t in much of a rush… Haven’t gotten around to cleaning out those gutters and downspouts yet, huh? And she couldn’t have been more frustrated with him than a few months ago when he passed on the opportunity to buy the lot neighboring the garage for future expansion because it was just too risky. But none of that mattered when she looked at him, eyes glowing with faith, and thanked him for taking care of her like no one else could.
Kyle didn’t know how a baby was going to change that, change them . He tried to stay positive, told himself they were still a team, Casey was still Casey. Until she wasn’t. Eight weeks into the pregnancy he had difficulty recognizing his wife. They’d been warned about morning sickness, but she suffered little of that. Instead she lived on the brink of emotional breakdown and the slightest thing sent her over the edge. He was accustomed to that day or two each month when she was out of sorts and snappy, but this was a whole new ball game. If he came home five minutes late, she’d tell him to sleep in the shop with Wyatt, lock herself in their bedroom, then reappear and sob into his chest. If he asked when dinner would be ready she’d accuse him of nagging her, then dissolve in tears and apologize. Got to the point where he was afraid to walk in the door after work, not sure who’d be waiting on the other side. Wyatt hid out in his shop during that time. When Kyle called him a chickenshit, Wyatt didn’t bother arguing— Yep. I don’t know what you did with my sister, but I’m not going anywhere near that hot mess.
Angie and Dr. Frazier had assured him and Casey it was hormones, and it would pass. But just as it did, an ultrasound in the second trimester indicated the placenta was covering Casey’s cervix. When it didn’t correct itself over the next couple of months Dr. Frazier started talking about extra precautions, which is when Kyle really began to have a problem with this kid. The doc stayed calm and steady while she explained the implications, but he remembered a cold chill running up his spine while he listened: Casey might experience bleeding and contractions during the third trimester. They would need to stay close to home and the hospital so they could closely monitor her and the baby. Dr. Frazier would perform a C-section, and Casey might need a blood transfusion afterward. Due to the added risk factors Kyle wouldn’t be allowed in the room with her for the procedure. Which they would schedule prior to her due date to avoid the risk of early labor.
Casey had taken that news like a champ. She’d squeezed Kyle’s hand hard in both of hers— I’m young and healthy and strong. I’ll be fine. The only time her obstinate certainty faltered was when she asked Dr. Frazier what this meant for future babies. Kyle had almost said exactly what was on his mind in that moment: Fuck that—we’re never doing this again. But something in the look Dr. Frazier flicked his way stopped him. The doc said she was aware Casey wanted more children, she’d do everything she could to make that possible, but sometimes in these cases a hysterectomy was necessary for the mother’s safety. When Dr. Frazier tried to lift the tone then— Let’s not dwell on worst-case scenario —Kyle couldn’t help the thought: That would actually be the best-case scenario.
Sitting in the waiting room chair now, he hung his head almost to his knees. Maybe he had brought this on. He didn’t want her to get pregnant again, but it was never his intention to put her in danger—just the opposite. Over the last few months Dr. Frazier had talked to them about how the risk for this same thing was much higher next time, but Casey didn’t care. That was another issue they firmly disagreed about. Kyle didn’t want to upset her, so he didn’t say much, just silently hoped a future pregnancy wouldn’t even be possible. Maybe he’d been too selfish and caused the very thing he was most afraid of. Losing her. When he thought about a life without Casey all he saw was a bottomless black hole where nothing had meaning. Never did that declaration they’d been exchanging for a decade mean more. He loved her so much it scared the shit out of him. Especially today.
He didn’t pick his head up but was aware of Angie returning to the waiting room, bringing coffees from the cafeteria. She asked Dad if there was any news, he said no. Kyle felt his cell phone buzz in his pocket, figured it was probably Mateo. Kyle had hired him shortly after opening the garage a year ago, and he was turning out to be a great right hand and friend. He was in charge while this was going on— I got this, boss, don’t worry about a thing. Or maybe it was Coach checking in. He was the one person who knew how afraid Kyle had been about this day, that he’d spent the last few months resenting this baby, and he’d never judged Kyle for it. But he didn’t know if the text was from Mateo or Coach; he made no move to check his phone. Instead he traced the infinity tattoo on his arm with a finger, staring at those dates. The day of their first date and the day they got married. Then he laid his hand on his chest, where KC was tattooed over his heart.
It wasn’t until he heard the swoosh of the swinging doors that he looked up again. There was Dr. Frazier, moving slower and looking spent, pulling the disposable cap off her head.
Kyle stood from his chair.
The doc’s eyes found his. “She’s okay.”
He breathed.
“We stopped the bleeding, and her vitals are getting stronger.”
When Wyatt spoke, his voice was small. “She’s really going to be okay?”
Dr. Frazier turned to him. “We have every reason to believe that. We’ll keep a close eye on her for a couple of days. When she goes home she’ll need lots of rest.” Her gaze moved around the little circle in the waiting room. “And she’ll need help these first few weeks with the baby. But she should be just fine.”
The relief was so explosive Kyle fell back down in his chair and let it rush through his whole body. The next thing he was aware of was the squeak of Wyatt’s chair as he wheeled it alongside Kyle’s so they were facing each other. Kyle looked up to see Wyatt smiling through tears, and he pulled his brother-in-law into a bear hug, finally offering the hope and comfort he wasn’t able to a few minutes ago. When they parted Kyle felt his dad’s and Angie’s hands on his shoulders, heard their words of relief, but he was already standing up. “Can I see her?”
The doc nodded and waved for Kyle to follow her through the swinging doors and down a wide corridor. Other than the occasional beep of far-off equipment it was quiet, and the smell was bland, antiseptic with a touch of cleaning fragrance. The whole muted feel was wrong to Kyle, like the atmosphere hadn’t even noticed his wife fighting for her life a few minutes ago.
Dr. Frazier stopped outside a door and turned to him. “She was just starting to come around so I haven’t told her about the hysterectomy yet. I imagine she’s going to ask about it pretty quickly. If you prefer, I can come in with you and explain…”
“No, that’s all right. I’ll tell her.”
“Okay. I’m going to have a nurse bring the baby. That will certainly help offset the bad news.”
The baby. Kyle had forgotten about the baby.
After Dr. Frazier walked away he slowly opened the door to Casey’s room, and there she was, looking small and pale and frail in that oversize bed, surrounded by machines, tubes attached to her arm. But he could see the rise and fall of her chest, the fluttering of her lashes. He stepped close and waited for her eyes to open and focus on him. When they did, she gave him a tired smile that pierced his heart.
He bent down, took her hand in his, gently placed his other hand on top of her head. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said. “It’s so good to see you.”
“You have no idea.” He leaned in to kiss her, then rested his forehead against hers.
He had just enough time to relish the sound of her breathing, the feel of her warm skin against his, before she pulled back and looked at him with a sharp pinch between her brows. “The baby?”
“He’s fine, totally healthy. A nurse is bringing him now.”
She sighed in relief, and the smile returned, but only briefly because her eyes asked a question then, and he gave her a silent answer. He and Casey were good at that kind of communication, whole conversations contained within a glance or light touch.
When her expression crumpled Kyle tightened his hold on her. “I’m so sorry, Case. They had no choice.”
She brought a hand to her face. “I’m sorry, Kyle.”
“What? Are you kidding me?” He pulled her hand away to see tears stream down. “Listen, you and the baby are safe. We’re luckier than anyone else I know.”
Her eyes stayed on his while she sniffed and nodded, even though she was still crying.
“You know how much I love you?” he asked.
She nodded again, swiped at her cheeks.
He slid his arm around her, pulled her face into the crook of his neck. While she wept in mourning for the future children they would never have, Kyle thanked the universe for the very same thing. They stayed that way for a while, she tucked into him while she cried, and he would have stayed that way a lot longer if the nurse hadn’t stuck her head in the door.
“Hi there,” she said. “Are you guys ready to meet your little boy?”
Casey pulled away from him and winced as she sat up a little.
The nurse stepped inside with a small bundle in her arms, walked to the side of the bed, and reached across Kyle to place the bundle in Casey’s arms.
He stood by watching closely, ready to intervene if it appeared too heavy or upset her in some way.
But, instead, her tears dried up immediately and she breathed in a soft gasp as she looked down at the little swaddled mass in her arms. “Oh my God, he’s beautiful.” Kyle thought he knew every shade of Casey’s voice, but this one was new. She sounded awestruck. Reverent. “Hello, Charlie,” she said, sliding a finger along his cheek.
They’d already decided on Charlie. It has a nice ring , Casey had said. Charlie Higgins McCray.
When she turned to Kyle her eyes were wider than he’d ever seen, and the purest smile broke across her face.
“Okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Okay.”
He breathed a sigh of relief.
Though, as he watched his wife and brand-new son, at a time when he probably should have been feeling on top of the world, he couldn’t help but note that his outpouring of love and reassurance hadn’t brought that smile and that “Okay” to Casey’s lips. The baby had.
The next few weeks were a blur. He hadn’t realized people could function on such little sleep. He tried to do as much as possible around the house after Casey was discharged. She was supposed to get lots of rest, avoid being on her feet and lifting anything. She was still bleeding, and according to Dr. Frazier, she might for weeks. The skin around her incision was tender, her whole lower half was swollen and achy. But it was hard for her to focus on giving her body time to heal when she was nursing the baby and he was hungry all the time. All the time. She shuffled around the house pale and dazed and bleary-eyed, in what he came to think of as a State of Zombie. He couldn’t help much with the baby; she was the only person the baby really wanted.
So he made himself useful in other ways: keeping the house somewhat clean and doing laundry, running to the store, taking care of meals. For the first couple weeks that last one mostly entailed heating up food Angie and the Foleys brought over. Mateo was a godsend. He was handling the garage for the most part, and as the dad of a two-year-old himself, he kept promising Kyle the baby would eventually sleep longer and they’d settle into a routine. But what Mateo couldn’t promise was that their lives would ever get back to normal again. Apparently some part of Kyle had foolishly thought that would happen, but in those first weeks after the baby was born it dawned on him that their world, the one that had always revolved around him and Casey, was forever changed.
It wasn’t until Charlie was two months old that he finally accepted it. One night, after Casey got frustrated with him yet again for doing something wrong when it came to the baby— I asked you to hold him, not put him down in the bassinet. How do you expect him to get comfortable with you when you spend so little time with him? —he headed out to Wyatt’s shop for a break and a beer. Wyatt had obliged, listened to him vent about it all, including the fact that Casey brought the baby into their bed every night to nurse him when he woke up, and he ended up staying there until morning.
But Wyatt hadn’t offered much sympathy, just sipped his beer and nodded while Kyle complained. He didn’t get it. His life hadn’t been completely upended, he didn’t have to adjust to a permanent third person in his marriage. And the baby liked Wyatt. He was the only person other than Casey who could distract him and get him to sleep. He’d lay Charlie in his lap and wheel him around the house, down the ramp, and along the boardwalk to his shop, back again. He talked to Charlie while he did it, about the weather, his work, how the Rangers were looking for next season.
When Wyatt continued to remain conspicuously quiet while he rambled on, Kyle looked at him and flipped a hand up. “What?”
“Nothing.”
“Just say it.”
After scratching his head and sighing, Wyatt finally said it. “You’re gonna have to forgive Charlie at some point, Kyle.”
He was about to ask what the hell that meant when it struck him like a thunderbolt, how right Wyatt was. It didn’t matter that it was irrational, it was still true. Kyle was angry at a two-month-old.
Hours later, in the middle of that night when Charlie started to stir, Kyle rose, scooped him out of the bassinet, and carried him across the hall into his little bedroom. Casey had put a lot of work into the nursery, stenciled various zoo animals on the blue walls, put glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling, found a huge hockey-player teddy bear to sit on the dresser. After turning on the lamp, Kyle sat in the rocking chair she often used for nursing, put his feet on her small stool, and laid Charlie in his lap. His eyes were open and searching, his little arms waving around.
Kyle bent over him and spoke quietly, to avoid startling him. “I thought maybe you and I should have a talk.”
At the sound of Kyle’s voice Charlie’s gaze widened a bit, and his mouth formed a perfect O.
“I know I haven’t been real warm and fuzzy with you,” Kyle said. “And I’m sorry about that. But Uncle Wyatt helped me realize something tonight. Don’t tell him I said this, but he’s a good dude, and you’re going to like him a lot.”
He stopped for a moment, to just watch Charlie. His baby brow was furrowed, he was making soft sounds, little grunts and gurgles. And his hands were balled up into tiny fists as they flailed about.
“The truth is, I’ve been a little ticked off at you. I wasn’t really ready to share Casey with someone, you know? By the way, you won the lottery when it comes to moms, kid.”
Though Charlie’s warm lump of a body was in busy motion now, his gaze was fixed on Kyle.
So he smiled and wiggled his fingers at Charlie. “I think I can get over it though, if you make me a promise. I know the whole birth thing wasn’t really your fault, but still. You have to promise me you’ll never hurt your mom again.”
Kyle hadn’t expected a response of any kind, he was just hoping his words were seeping into Charlie’s subconscious. But when his tiny fingers reached out and grabbed onto Kyle’s pinky, Kyle swore they’d come to an understanding.
“Welcome to the team, Charlie.” Then Kyle picked up his son and laid him against his chest, gently rocked the chair. Within minutes, for the first time ever, Charlie fell asleep in Kyle’s arms.
The next morning he left the house before Casey and Charlie woke up. When he returned a couple of hours later he found Casey in the laundry room, wearing track pants and one of his T-shirts. At a glance he rated her about a five on the one-to-ten zombie scale. He walked in and stood beside her. When she turned to him he held out his right arm and ripped off the large bandage he wasn’t supposed to rip off yet to show her the new tattoo on his forearm, a name over a date in a simple bold font: Charlie Higgins McCray 5/1/08 .
Casey cried then, which he was well used to at that point, but they were happy tears. And that made all the difference.